


The Lazarus Effect

by Catatonica



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Civil War ff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I uploaded both endings :), I'm so sorry, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, You can decide, sad end or happy end, the fic is from 2016 i just found it again haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27540199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catatonica/pseuds/Catatonica
Summary: Bucky has been in hiding in Romania for several months. Uncertain as it is to go further he entrenches himself in a remote quarter in Bucharest. Hunted by the past years he tries to close with the existence as a winter soldier, but that seems impossible to him. Good thing your curiosity has always been an unstoppable force that makes you want to offer Bucky a cup of coffee.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 19





	1. Don't know quite why

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this fic is a bit older, it's from 2016 when Civil War came out. Hope you enjoy!

It was not a nice day. The sky was cloudless and clear, but the streets of the city were filled with people wrapped in rags. The inhabitants of this neighborhood were poor and had to make do with whatever they could get their hands on.  
You watched the market closely. Like every morning, it was a colorful jumble of vendors and customers scurrying between the stalls.  
Your gaze wandered over the roofs of Bucharest, caught on the crumbling facades of the buildings and a sting went through your chest. You loved this city, had grown up here, but it had changed. The mood of the citizens had sunk in recent years, beaten down by corruption and wrong decisions.  
You rose from the windowsill, hurriedly crept with your bare feet across the tiles of your kitchen. The coffee machine rustled - you desperately needed a new one - and you poured yourself another cup, steaming and hot.  
With a quick glance at the clock you went into the hallway. It was half past eleven.  
You remained motionless behind your front door and listened out into the stairwell. At any moment...  
You flinched a little when you heard the banging of the heavy metal door. Immediately you looked through the peephole, holding your breath.  
It took him a minute to reach your floor and the corners of your mouth curled up into a smile. He lived one floor above you. The man with the shoulder-length brown hair and the stone face. And he had a metal arm - how cool was that? It was certainly a prosthesis. I wonder if he had fought in a war? He looked quite young, so that was rather unlikely. Maybe a mercenary.  
Every day at eleven he went down to the market, bought some fruit and went back upstairs. Otherwise he hardly moved out of the house. Sometimes you could hear his heavy steps on the ceiling, but nothing else. He was like a ghost who appeared only to buy plums.  
You went back to the window, sat down on the small cushion on the ledge and looked down at the street, the cup of coffee clasped tightly like a life preserver. What had become of this city. What had become of you?  
  


In the evening, as you stretched out on your small, tattered sofa, the neighboring white cat on your lap - the animal preferred to come to you rather than to its real owners - you listened to the ceiling. Heavy steps, from right to left. Stop. Back from left to right. Repeat.  
He seemed to be agitated, as he tigered from A to B. Otherwise it was quiet at this time of day and no sound could be heard. Except for the woman next door who was yelling at her husband and throwing things at him. You knew the sounds of this house all too well by now, but the young man was new and needed getting used to. You never heard a TV on or that anything fell to the floor. Who was that guy?  
The white cat jumped to the floor, ran hastily to the window and meowed accusingly. You moaned, but rose up, annoyed to let her go outside. The green eyes of the cat stared out as if hypnotized and when you went to the window you saw what was wrong. A small bird was jumping up and down on the ledge, seemingly very sure of itself.  
"Don't drag him in here," you growled at the white kitten and pushed the window up. With one leap the cat was out and pounced on the bird, but the feathered animal was faster. Immediately the blackbird was in the air and fluttered away in a hurry, carrying only the longing look of the cat with it.  
"Too slow," you pulled the fluffy little animal up and stroked gently over the little head. "You must go faster."  
You paused in your movement when you suddenly felt very watched. You looked furtively to the left and right, but the windows of your neighbors were closed.  
The quiet meow of your cat then made you look up and you followed her green eyes up to the window on the next floor. The mysterious man leaned against the window frame and returned your surprised look with his petrified expression.  
"Eh- hi.," you said, a little overwhelmed. First you had to spy daily to get to see him and now it was his turn to check you out. But I guess he didn't want to answer you.  
"I- I saw you in the stairwell," you babbled on, but immediately regretted it - great, now he knew that you were spying on him through the door viewer! That's great.  
He looked at you with crossed arms and you saw that he was not wearing a glove over his metal arm, as was usually the case. In the pale light of his apartment, the metal glittered with every movement and your eyes grew big.  
"So your arm is really made of metal," you shouted and leaned far out of the window to the front. "That is really cool! Is that a prosthesis?"  
He still didn't say anything and apparently you had upset him with that. Because he turned away and closed the window without another word.  
"Shit," you mumbled in frustration and pulled the corners of your mouth down. That would have been your chance to at least find out his name - or what he was doing in the dirtiest part of the city.  
"Come on, it's getting chilly." You lifted the cat onto the floor of your apartment and closed the window. Questions were buzzing around in your head and you still felt the excitement in your chest that made your heart beat faster. He really was a very mysterious man.  
  


The next morning, you were sitting at your window seat as usual, watching the man buy his food and then go to your house. He looked around as often as usual, as if he was afraid of being followed. Usually it was a simple marketplace, one of many in this area. But today something was different. There was something heavy in the air - you had goose bumps running down your back. Your eyes searched the dark corners of the square and indeed - was he being followed? You had never seen these men before - the guy at the butcher's stand and the one with the pit bull on a short chain line, for example. These figures did not belong here!  
Immediately you jumped up, pulled your pants over your butt and hurried to your front door. You heard his footsteps in the hallway, ripped open your front door - and looked into two somewhat surprised blue-grey eyes that were staring at you. The twitching in his muscles told you that he was familiar with surprises and that they were probably not as harmless as you are.  
"You are being followed," you called out to him and leaned halfway out your door. He snorted.  
"From you?," he replied dryly.  
You rolled your eyes and shook your head.  
"No, not-well, a little, but that's not what I mean," you said and threw a worried look over your shoulder at the kitchen window. "Do you want a coffee?"  
The question irritated him so much that he frowned. The first impulse in that serious face, you thought - but never mind.  
"Wonderful!" You grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him into your hallway. You threw the door into the lock and inserted the security chain. In the same second, the metal door at the entrance flew open and you heard voices whispering wildly.  
"Your visitor growled coolly and wanted to push past you, but you pushed yourself between him and the door and pressed your hands against his chest.  
"Did you even listen to me?!" you hissed, as quietly as possible - footsteps on the stairs. "Those guys are after you! I saw them in the marketplace and they've never been here before! Which means they're not here to buy plums."  
You gestured wildly to the plastic bag full of plums - the brown-haired guy looked at you a bit out of tune. What, because you had insulted his fruit?  
"I'll take care of my own business," was his curt answer, and he pushed you aside with a lightness that surprised you. You grabbed his left arm and your mouth opened. That was really a metal arm and absolutely top class! This was never a simple prosthesis - it had to cost millions!  
"Wicked," you hissed and let your fingertips run over the bare metal. "Why do you have that?"  
It escaped your touch and now listened through your apartment door.  
"Many," he murmured, more to himself than to you. He glanced briefly at you from the side, but then sighed and took a step back from the door. "I'll have a coffee."  
  


You stared expectantly at him over the edge of your cup, while he had to push the cat away from him gently but surely. The animal had taken a great liking to him, but he was not very enthusiastic about it.  
"And?", you asked - but it only looked at you questioningly. "What is your name?"  
"None of your business."  
"Oh, come on," you grumbled and leaned forward over the small kitchen table. For a moment he looked at you with a scowl on his face, scrutinizing you closely.  
"Bucky."  
"Nice to meet you, Bucky. You told him your name too, but he didn't really seem interested. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, broken only by the loud purring of the white beast.  
"Cat, leave him alone." You gently lifted the four-legged friend from the table and caught a questioning glance from your guest.  
"The cat is called... 'Cat'?", he asked quietly and you shrugged your shoulders.  
"She only reacts to it. It is not mine." You stroked gently on the soft back and she snuggled tightly against your hand. "She lived with the neighbors, but I rather think she's a stray."  
"So you took her in?"  
"Not really," you admitted and sipped your coffee. "She comes and goes. She gets something to eat and a warm place to sleep. And sometimes strays get coffee from me."  
He avoided your side glance and nervously shifted back and forth in his chair.  
"You think I am a stray?" he asked.  
"Are you?"  
He did not answer, but took a sip of coffee. You saw how he pulled a face and raised his shoulders apologetically.  
"It's cheap coffee," you muttered, a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry."  
You remained silent for the next few minutes until Bucky stood up and looked up at the ceiling.  
"They're gone."  
"For the time being," you replied, rising from the table as well. You nodded slightly embarrassed at the kitchen window and rubbed your neck. "I'll keep an eye out for you if you like."  
He looked at you for a second, but then nodded silently.  
At the door you leaned against the frame and as he stood at the landing of the stairs to the upper floor you took heart.  
"I'll buy better coffee," you said, and he turned to you once more. "For next time, you know."  
He nodded in silence.


	2. I was feeling unsatisfied

"Thank you very much." You took your change and looked around the back. The marketplace was packed, people were crowding in, and you could hardly understand your own words in all the noise. You stowed your shopping in your bag, and as you nested at the clasp, your gaze searched the immediate surroundings.  
"Ah, there you are." Bucky stood a little aside, his hands in the pockets of his jacket and the baseball cap pulled deep into his face.  
"Let's go," he said curtly and you shrugged your shoulders.  
"All right. I just need one more little thing," you said, but he shook his head.  
"Now."  
He seemed agitated and restless, looking around constantly. You knew that he was in a constant state of nervousness, but the way he behaved, he attracted a lot more attention than you did.  
"Stop pretending to sell drugs," you said to him, leaning slightly to the side to look under his cap. "You look suspicious. "And the police here don't hesitate to take action when they've got somebody staked out, you know."  
He didn't answer, but relaxed his shoulders and gave you a quick look.  
"There you go. There you go." You turned to the next booth and instructed him to wait with a gesture of your hand.  
Coffee powder - and sinfully expensive to boot. Your meager wage was not usually enough for such luxury goods, but you had promised him.  
"Now we can go." You nodded to Bucky, who followed you back to the apartment building.  
"At last," you could hear him whisper softly, but you didn't respond. That's the way he seemed to tick.  
He was quiet, very reserved and almost jumpy. You watched him, invited him to your place for coffee once a day - he seldom managed to make more than a few sparse sentences. You suspected that there was much more to it than an introverted personality. Your curiosity urged you to talk to him again and again, but you were also afraid that you were pushing him too hard. He was on the run, and judging by his painful look, there was no 'normal' reason for this. But you did not dare to ask him.  
  


"Sit down."  
Bucky sat down on the chair at the small kitchen table and stroked the cat, which immediately threw itself at him again purring. She snuggled tightly around his legs and you were surprised how tenderly he touched the animal. Almost as if he was afraid to hurt the tender kitten.  
"This one will be much better than the last one." You sucked in the scent of the new coffee powder and sighed deeply. Damn, an expensive roast was really worth the money!  
You hesitated for a moment, but then you turned to the dark-haired one. He just lifted the cat on his lap and gently stroked his little head - he really seemed to be a cat lover.  
"Bucky." He looked up at you and for a split second you saw the flickering in his eyes. Immediately his shoulders tightened again and his posture became stiff and nervous again.  
"Don't take it out on me." You leaned against the kitchen counter. "But would you like to take a shower?"  
"The water pipes don't work for me," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He didn't care, except for you at that moment. He didn't smell very good.  
"Nothing there," you growled softly and went into the bathroom - only to throw a towel at him from the door the next moment. With a jerk, you turned the shower controls. The pipes gurgled and creaked, but after a few seconds water came out. You had to wait a minute for it to clear, but it was warm.  
"Off you go!" you grabbed him by the sleeve, but were amazed when he jumped up in a split second, grabbed your wrist and turned around. You cried out, more with surprise than pain.  
Immediately he let go of you and took a step back. You looked up at his face and he seemed much more scared than you. Immediately he raised his hands, asking for forgiveness.  
"Sorry, I-" he started and wanted to storm out of your apartment, but you grabbed his sleeve again and made him stop. You felt the twitch in his body and put on a weak smile.  
"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't mean to scare you."  
He looked at you and you were sure to recognize fear in his gaze - and confusion. He wondered why you reacted like that.  
"Come on, we're wasting precious hot water here," you tried to cheer him up and pushed him toward the bathroom. Before he could even say a word, you slammed the door behind him and leaned your back against it.  
Your wrist hurt very badly after the first fright was over. You rubbed your sore skin and looked at the red marks. His metal arm was really strong, that much was clear.  
In the kitchen you ran some cool water over it, but it didn't help much, it still hurt. It would take a few days to get better.  
In your bedroom, you rummaged through your closet to the back wall.  
"Damn, where the- Aha!" You pulled out some of your ex's clothes and shook them hard. It was a red sweatshirt and dark pants - you weren't sure if it would fit him.  
"Bucky?" You knocked gently on the bathroom door, but there was no answer. Only the constant rushing of water came to your ear. "I'm coming in! I'm not looking!"  
You opened the door, eyes on the ceiling.  
"I thought you might want something clean to wear!"  
The murmur stopped and you felt him take off your clothes. A little blushing, you stared stubbornly in the opposite direction and cleared your throat slightly.  
"Thank you," you heard him murmuring and you nodded embarrassed.  
"Please, please. I eh- I'll fix us something to eat."  
You closed the door behind you and put a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. He was a strange fellow, but damn it, it was a shame to look the other way at a sight like that!  
He was very well built, then these incredible reflexes and his paranoid alertness - he was trained. A fighter. You had seen something like that before, in the last major government operation. Bucky was a soldier.  
  


"Peanut butter. And jam." while he was staring suspiciously at that sandwich.  
"That's the kind of thing you Americans like," you muttered insecurely. "I saw it on TV."  
A mocking look on his part taught you silence and you bit into your own food. Damn, that peanut butter was ancient. And tasted just like it.  
A bit disgusted, you let the bread sink and put it back on the plate as inconspicuously as possible. A big sip of coffee washed the taste out of your mouth and you stared, stepped on the checked tablecloth in front of you. An uncomfortable silence depressed the mood and you disliked it.  
"You smell better," you said and leaned forward a little. "Is that my flower shampoo?"  
"There was nothing else there," Bucky replied dryly. You wiped the grin off your face and just nodded.  
"You got that right.  
"Why aren't you afraid of me? His voice was low but it hit a point deep in your chest. Was he used to being feared?  
"Why should I be afraid?" you countered, but you knew what he was alluding to. His gaze rested on your reddened wrist, but you pushed your arm under the table, out of his sight. "Accidents will happen."  
"Accidents happen." The slanting base of a grin settled on his face. It was a grimace full of pain, and in that moment you realized that he was not some crazy guy.  
This man had suffered pain beyond your imagination.  
"It's all right, don't worry about it, don't worry about S-," you started, but he abruptly rose from his chair and went to the front door. "Wait! Bucky!"  
"No!" You stopped, surprised by his loud, cutting voice. He looked at you for a moment, the handle of the door already in his metal hand. "Do you treat all strays like you treat me? Food, a hot shower, and all those nice things?" He spat out the last word in anger at you and you flinched a little. Where did that come from all of a sudden?!  
"I don't treat every stray dog like that," replied and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Only those who need it."  
He couldn't stand your reproachful look any longer and threw the door behind him noisily into the lock.  
You grimaced, pondering what you had done wrong. But you had only wanted to help him! And then he suddenly became so furious, he drove into your mouth and slammed your front door shut.  
A strong, winning feeling took hold of you and you sighed deeply.  
Bucky was anything but okay.  
  



	3. I had to get out now

Bored, you hung over the back of the sofa and stared dozily at your TV. The commercials left you half asleep while your cat chewed on the green lily in the corner.  
"Stop that," you muttered to the animal, but you were deliberately ignored. It constantly ate your plants - the reason why you only had non-toxic greens - and just couldn't get rid of them.  
"Noooo", you reached out to lift the kitten off the table, but paused when your attention was drawn to the TV. It was a report about the events in Washington a few months ago. You had followed the subject with interest, since it was on every damn day of every damn news show.  
"...which brought new video footage to light," the announcer just finished his presentation and amateur recordings were made, apparently taken with a cell phone. It was the battle between Captain America and a group of mercenaries.  
Tensely you straightened up and looked spellbound at the screen. Cap fought bitterly against a mercenary and when the dust settled in the video, your heart stopped for a moment.  
He had a metal arm.  
"Bucky...?!"  
  


He hadn't been around for a few days, but you knew he was home. Where else?  
"Open up." You didn't knock on his door, you just stood there with your arms crossed, chewing on your lower lip in uncertainty. "I know you hear me."  
No answer.  
"Bucky." You were getting impatient, and everything inside was screaming for an explanation. But what was there to explain? Your neighbor was responsible for many, many deaths. There could be no explanation for that - at least no good one.  
"Winter Soldier."  
It took a moment, but he opened the door a crack wide and let you in.  
"You figured it out."  
His apartment was dark, without furniture and all in all a dump. He leaned against the kitchen counter and closed a dark notebook. As inconspicuous as possible, but you knew that you shouldn't see the contents.  
"Idiot," you whispered and crossed your arms. "Do you think I wouldn't have found out sooner or later? That you are a murderer?"  
He didn't answer you again, so you just went on, angrier with every word.  
"Do you really think I'm that naive? So stupid?!" He had to stop looking down with that sad look; it broke your heart.  
"I don't do that anymore," he replied briefly.  
"But why did you do it then? People died, Bucky!"  
He took a deep breath, but shook his head.  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
"I understand.  
You turned on your heel, you opened his front door, and you threw it back in the lock behind you, it just cracked. In the hallway, you buried your face in your hands, not sure what was going on.  
It was all too much!  
  


The next morning - well, noon - you were lying in your bed, curled up like a burrito in your blanket. Your stomach was aching and you didn't know what to do next.  
So Bucky was a murderer. So Bucky was a killer.  
But was your Bucky really that cold-- wait, your Bucky?  
You sat up with a jerk and shook your head in protest. No, you shouldn't have started thinking like that. This man was dangerous and unpredictable, as you had already experienced at first hand. Your wrist was still a bit sensitive, but it was already beginning to heal.  
You couldn't forget his frightened expression on your face after he had hurt you. This was not on purpose or pure malice - it was a reflex, trained for years. Like a dog that bit you out of fear and caught you on the wrist. He could not help himself.  
You growled annoyed and rolled out of your bed until you landed on the floor of the small bedroom. Your bad mood and listlessness made sure that you were in bed until noon and now you couldn't even get up from your carpet. What a dog's life!  
The white cat elegantly strolled up to you and sniffed your cheek with interest. She let out a soft meow and you looked up at her.  
"I know. He could not help it. There's something very strange going on with him."  
The cat blinked slowly and sat down next to you on its hind legs.  
"I suspect brainwashing," you kept saying. "Some kind of supervillain stuff. Secret organizations and stuff."  
She licked her paw and washed her ears.  
"He always has such a sad look. It looks like he's in constant pain."  
You straightened up, had enough conversations with the cat. If your gut feeling was right - and it was almost always the case - Bucky would not be helped by rejection, only patience and understanding. Your stomach was lurching at the thought of being near him, but it was not a pleasant feeling - it was fear.  
As you stood in the kitchen making pancakes for breakfast, your guilty conscience pushed you. Of course, he didn't want to talk about his past when it had been so painful. It was no different for you.  
And since he would certainly not come to you on his own, you had to show courage and take a step towards him!  
  


This time you even knocked and waited until he opened the door after a few quiet seconds.  
He didn't say anything, he just avoided your gaze.  
"Do you wanna-", you nervously cleared your throat. "Well, I made pancakes. There's a few too many and I thought..."  
You did a great job, stuttering up a barely coherent sentence.  
"Are you sure about that?" he asked quietly and you nodded affirmatively.  
"Of course I'm sure. Otherwise I would have to throw them away," you said, but that was a downright lie. You had no idea what you were doing here and if it was really such a good idea - but you wanted to jump over your shadow. Bucky couldn't be that bad, because otherwise he would have killed you long ago.  
"Okay."  
  


"You like it?"  
The dark-haired man looked up from his pancake, which he pushed from one side of the plate to the other. You weren't exactly a gifted cook, but he nodded anyway. You knew he was lying, but that he didn't want to hurt your feelings confirmed your suspicions. How angry could someone be who had the look of a Labrador sitting in the rain?  
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," you mumbled over your stack of barely touched pancakes at one point. "But I need to know that I don't have to be afraid of you."  
His blue eyes wandered up to your face and finally, after what felt like an eternity, he looked you straight in the eyes again. His jaws were grinding and he seemed to brood.  
"I'm dangerous," he replied to you and poked at one of the blueberries on his plate.  
"I am not afraid," you assured him. He nodded, but you knew that he did not believe you. He jerked his knee against the table and you jumped up in shock, your knife from the cistern in your hand within a second. He looked at you, challenging you and you knew that he wanted to show you the situation. That you were deluding yourself.  
Of course you were afraid of him.  
"I'm sorry," you said and dropped the knife in shame. This time you meant it seriously - that your body had reacted like that surprised even you. "I'll get used to it."  
"You don't have to." He got up and went to the front door. "I'm leaving."  
"Wait," you shouted, but he was already out the door and left you behind with your guilty conscience.  
That was the exact opposite of what you wanted to achieve.


	4. Trying to find it

"Finally you're coming to work again," Sorin teased you, but you didn't let him provoke you. You let your eyes wander over the crowded dance floor, which was lit by spotlights in all kinds of colors. The bass shook the small nightclub to its foundations and you felt the vibrations in your chest.  
You liked your job as a DJ at ON POINT, but that night your thoughts kept wandering. Worried about Bucky you could hardly concentrate, wondering what had happened to him.  
A few days after he left your apartment in the storm, his was empty. Emptier than before. He was gone, submerged, as you suspected. Nowhere did you find a trace of him, even if you spent hours and hours at the kitchen window looking for him. As if he had vanished into thin air.  
"Hey, still here?" Sorin waved his hand in front of your face and you flinched.  
"Yeah, yeah. Tell me, Sorin."  
"Huh?"  
You swallowed. Would you want to take that step and interfere in things that were none of your business?  
What a question!  
"You have eyes and ears everywhere, don't you?" you asked, and your colleague raised his eyebrows in surprise.  
"Sure. What do you need?", he asked with a wry grin. "You never ask me about such things."  
"Someone is trying to avoid me. It's nothing too bad, I'm just afraid he's not necessarily better off alone," you said and sipped your Coke in embarrassment.  
"A 'he'? Honey, don't make me unhappy." He leaned towards you a little bit, but you pushed him away again. You knew he wasn't serious about such insinuations, but at that moment you were very annoyed.  
"Now tell me. Can you help me?", you followed and he shrugged his shoulders.  
"Of course I can. What does he look like?"  
"Shoulder-length, brown hair, and broadly built. He usually wears a jacket and baseball cap. Acts like a drug dealer, to be honest."  
"Sounds like a dream guy," Sorin teased you, but you only wiggled the corners of your mouth.  
"Be careful if you run into him," you told your colleague. "He has... ...good reflexes."  
Sorin drew his eyebrows together.  
"So he's not very sociable?" he asked slowly and you nodded affirmatively.  
"I suppose he's been through quite a lot. I've only known him a few weeks, but..."  
"I don't mind. But do me a favor" His look was worried. "Don't get involved with guys who can get you in trouble. That's why you have me." He winked at you and disappeared into the backstage area.  
You sighed deeply and concentrated again on your work.  
That could be cheerful.  
  


At noon the next day you were still in bed when there was a knock at your door.  
After you had hurriedly put on your pants, you stomped to the door, disgruntled and with dishevelled hair.  
"Good morning my angel!"  
"Sorin."  
You stomped into the kitchen while he closed the door behind him and followed you.  
"Coffee?" you muttered, and you put on some water.  
"I won't say no to that." Sorin lowered himself onto the chair at the kitchen table and put a folded piece of paper on the table.  
"That was quick," you muttered, even more in your sleep than when you were awake. "Where is he?"  
"Down by the docks," Sorin replied, looking at you with a suspicious look. "You didn't tell me he had a metal arm."  
"You did not need to know that."  
"He's dangerous."  
You placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of him and sat down opposite him.  
"He's not that bad," you said. "I know what I'm doing."  
Sorin checked you out, but then shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of coffee.  
"If that's what you mean. You shouldn't go down to the docks at night, there's nothing there but riffraff."  
When Sorin left, you sat at your kitchen table and thought for a long time. Were you really going to go along with this? Actually, you could be glad Bucky was gone. The Winter Soldier. Bucky. Who was he really?  
He seemed so nice - paranoid, but nice. You knew something was wrong. The Winter Soldier was a killing machine, ruthless and without mercy. But Bucky was very different. Lovable inside, but he was also a broken man. What had been done to him?  
You stood up and looked at your watch. It was already half past four - had you really sat here for so long, pondering over a man you barely knew, staring into space? - and it was time for a decision.  
"I'll be damned..." you growled and reached for your keys.  
  


  
The docks were an unpleasant place. There was drug dealing in the dark side streets, prostitutes in tight panties and ambulance sirens coming from not too far away.  
The hood of your jacket deep in your face and with your hands in the pockets of your jacket you hurried through the confused streets as unobtrusively as possible.  
You were lost.  
Shit.  
At an intersection, you looked left and right, unsure which way to take. You didn't even know where he was at the moment.  
'At the docks' was a very vague information from Sorin, but what did you expect from a drunk like him? He was a good informant, one of the best, but useless if he had been drinking. Probably he had followed Bucky to the docks and then disappeared into a pub.  
You had to read him the riot act again for that!  
Two sinister creatures came in your direction and you quickly took the left path. Until now you had been able to avoid confrontations, but the later it got the more likely you were to get into trouble. You were not completely defenseless, but the criminals on the docks were of a different caliber.  
The name 'docks' was not quite accurate either. There was no port in Bucharest, but the slums were the place to go for smugglers of all kinds. A flourishing business under the nose of the police, who were either too stupid or too corrupt to do anything about it. So this particularly dirty part of the city had been patterned to the 'docks' and whoever was in the area had done some dirty work himself.  
Bucky was no fool - he had chosen a good place to hide. But you would find him no matter what it took; finding him was important because you couldn't imagine that he could get along on his own without getting into more trouble. He seemed to be a magnet for problems and that seemed unpleasantly familiar to you, for you were no different. And people like you and him had to look after each other and help!  
You also had a bad conscience that you had behaved so jumpy towards him.  
  


You had arrived at the heart of the docks, a large square full of flourishing trade. Drugs, sex and even organs were bought here with the necessary change. Nervous goose bumps ran down your back as you watched the crowds of people from the shadows. It was just like the marketplace on your doorstep, only much more... more immoral.  
You watched as a guy was beaten up by six mobsters, as a pit bull nagged and drooled as he tried to bite anyone who walked past him, and as a woman screamed and shrieked to defend herself against the too greedy hands of a customer.  
You pulled the corners of your mouth downwards, but let your gaze wander further over the market. You were looking for a dark jacket and a baseball cap - and you found it.  
You ran across the street in a hurry, were almost hit by a speeding car, but managed to jump between the people and make your way through the moving masses.  
You caught up with him, grabbed his arm - but it was not Bucky.  
"Hey-!", the guy complained, but you waved away.  
"'Sorry...", you mumbled to the stranger and quickly disappeared again between the people.  
Man, that was embarrassing.  
You weren't even sure he was in this market. You looked around searching, but faltered when you caught a familiar face.  
The guy in pinstripes also hesitated for a moment, but seemed to recognize you.  
"You-!!!", he rumbled and you ran off, as if chased by the devil himself. That wasn't so far off the mark, after all you had caused the guy quite a bit of trouble at one point. It was the henchman of a high-ranking Mafiosi, which tried to get you now to seize. It was one of those people who got their hands dirty for a good word from the boss - with blood. If he got his hands on you, you'd be a pile of mud on the ground, so you picked up your legs and escaped to the next side street.  
You jumped over a garbage can - and a sleeping junkie -, turned the next corner and crashed head-on into something... Soft?  
You looked up and stared into two astonished, brown eyes.  
"Bucky!," you shouted incredulously, but then you remembered the situation you were in.  
"Got you, bitch!" cried the thug and almost ran into your target. "What z-"  
"Get lost," you shouted to the bat, but Bucky just pushed you behind him with his metal arm and looked at your pursuer.  
"Leave her alone," he said calmly, but your opponent only laughed.  
"I ain't gonna do shit! That bitch has caused me a lot of trouble!"  
Bucky said nothing, just waited. But you felt the metal moving under his jacket, tightening the artificial muscles.  
The mobster had no patience with you, but took a direct step towards you, took a swing - and Bucky caught the blow. He held the man's arm with his right hand and swung his left.  
One punch to the side and the guy collapsed whimpering.  
Bucky had probably broken a rib or two.  
"Let's go," you shouted to the dark-haired man and grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket. You hurried him through the alley, past the black market and as fast as you could towards your apartment building.  
He bravely followed you for two streets, but then he stopped and escaped your grip.  
"Go home," he said dryly and turned away to go back to the docks.  
You stood there irritated for a moment, but then grabbed the hem of a jacket and held him to it.  
"Are you crazy?!", you asked him urgently. "I'm not going to drag my fucking ass to the docks and leave empty-handed!"  
"Then you shouldn't have come here," he replied curtly.  
"Bucky!," you shouted angrily, but immediately lowered your voice as passing people turned around to look for you. You looked evasive to the ground, but then took courage and grabbed his sleeve again. "Stop pretending that this is all your problem alone! I know we hardly know each other - but please, let me help you!"  
He didn't react to you, didn't look at you either.  
"Come home with me... Please." You watched him turn slightly towards you.  
"I have no home."  
You defiantly pulled your brows together.  
"I do now! Whether you like it or not!"


	5. Under the influence

"You damn cat!" Annoyed, you put the animal on the floor, but she immediately jumped back onto the sofa, which you tried to cover.  
After a little discussion and some not very serious threats on your part you managed to drag Bucky back to your place. You suspected that he would disappear as soon as there was the slightest chance, but you wouldn't let him. The man had serious problems and running away was not the solution!  
You snorted, a little amused about yourself - maybe you should take your own advice.  
"Go down there," you snarled at the white kitten, but you were ignored as usual. Such a stubborn animal!  
Bucky joined in and watched the play.  
"I'm sleeping upstairs," he said, nodding to the ceiling. But you shrugged your shoulders and shook out the pillow.  
"Nothing will come of it. Junkies have a habit of occupying empty apartments immediately - like pigeons or rats," you said, and at that moment there was actually a loud roar and rumble from the third floor.  
"I hate new neighbors...," you mumbled, then gave the dark-haired man a quick sideways glance. "No offense."  
He didn't answer, just stared out the window. It was a mystery to you how you could crack him. He was so secretive and you assumed that he just didn't trust you. You couldn't really blame him for that. I'm sure he had his reasons.  
"What do you want to eat?" you changed the subject and shooed the cat off the sofa one last time. "What do you think about..."  
You went to the refrigerator and looked inside. The corners of your mouth pulled down - you had completely forgotten about your adventure in the docks.  
"Apparently noodles," you muttered to yourself. "Or we could order a pizza."  
"I'm not very hungry," was his curt answer and you rolled your eyes annoyingly.  
"You can't tell me that you've always been fed up with chips and coke," you murmured and he gave you a suspicious look. He wondered how you knew his diet and you looked evasively to the side. On your last visit to his apartment, you had seen the packs of chips and cola and counted one and one together.  
"Pizza isn't exactly balanced, but it's better than chips," you said and reached for the phone.  
He remained silent until you had taken care of the food, but then he took a look at you.  
"You have to stop interfering," he said seriously.  
"And what if I don't want to?", you replied with an obstinate undertone in your voice. Couldn't he just accept your help?!  
He got up from the sofa, walked straight towards you. You were very surprised by this confrontational response, but you controlled your muscles and didn't take a step back. You did not want to show fear of him again, even if he was not predictable in your eyes.  
"Why can't you understand it," he rumbled in a deep voice and stopped only a few centimeters in front of you. You had to look up to him, since he was quite a bit taller than you. Your mouth became dry and your heartbeat doubled under the tension inside you. If you hadn't crossed your arms in front of your chest, your hands would surely be trembling.  
"Do not make my problems yours. It's none of your business!"  
You resisted his gaze for a few seconds, but then you looked evasively to the ground.  
"I- I look at you and know that you are looking for something. Something you don't really want to know about. It causes you pain digging up the past. That's why you prefer to run away and hide in a dirty apartment in Bucharest," you whispered and chewed your lower lip. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and you had to blink hard so they wouldn't roll down your cheeks. You looked up again into the brown eyes that were staring at you with irritation. "I know what that's like, believe me."  
With your shoulders raised, you walked past him, sat down on the sofa and stroked the cat with your head lowered.  
He hesitated, but then sat down next to you and sighed heavily.  
"Brainwashed," he said softly and you looked up at him. "I don't remember the things I wish for, but the things I remember... I can't get them out of my head."  
You nodded understandingly and pulled your legs close to your body.  
"Noapte Viu," you muttered and put your forehead against your knees.  
"Romanian Special Forces?", he followed up in surprise and looked at you in amazement. You shook your head silently and he asked no further questions. It was not possible to talk about it. Not yet.  
There was a knock at your door - you had already completely forgotten the pizza! You had lost your appetite too. You took the food, paid the delivery man and threw the box carelessly onto the small coffee table.  
"I'm going to bed," you mumbled sadly, and before Bucky could say anything, you were already in the bathroom brushing your teeth.  
The dark-haired man looked at you for a moment until the cat jumped on his lap and begged for affection.  
  


You did not get a wink of sleep. You rolled back and forth, curled up in your blanket and in a sinking mood. Fragments of the past chased your thoughts and you were so afraid that sleep was out of your mind that night.  
Instead of torturing yourself further, you threw the blanket aside and trudged into the kitchen in the dark. A warm cocoa always helped - your grandma had already said that.  
You put some milk in a small pot and rummaged for the cocoa powder on the top shelf. A noise made you turn your head back and with big eyes you suddenly saw Bucky sitting at the kitchen table.  
"Don't sneak up on me like that," you said softly, but smiled slightly. "Want some cocoa?"  
He nodded and then you suddenly remembered - you weren't wearing pants. Jumping through your kitchen as usual in your underwear, your bottom only sparsely covered by underpants and the end of a short top.  
But also your counterpart was rather scantily dressed, because what you could see from the tabletop upwards was naked. Fascinated, you watched the transition from skin to metal on his left shoulder.  
"Normally 'No Shirt - No Service' applies here, you know," you joked embarrassedly, but he didn't seem to understand the allusion. You sighed in frustration - damned old man.  
"Well, cocoa?"  
He seemed to have been somewhat distracted by your sparse clothing, but he covered it up quite well and nodded at your offer.  
"With marshmallows?", you suggested, and poured the milk, which was now hot, into two cups. Without waiting for his answer, you threw a hand full of little marshmallows at his drink and put it in front of his nose.  
You remained silent for a moment before you spoke.  
"We both have pretty big problems," you said and took a sip. "I just think it would be best if we didn't try to make it on our own. Sometimes a little help isn't so wrong."  
"I don't object to your help either." His face twisted a little when he sipped the cup. "Much sweeter than before..."  
"Then why are you like this?" you muttered in your cup.  
"Because I am dangerous."  
"You're not alone."  
"You're still so young." His voice was quiet and you could hear a warm undertone in it. He was right - but what did that have to say.  
"And you are ancient for it," you countered and you saw in the incoming light how he smiled amused. You lost yourself in it for a fraction of a second, but then you recovered your composure and gave him a gentle smile as well.  
But then he lowered his eyes and emptied the rest of your drink. The air was charged with a certain crackling and you quickly wanted to change the subject to escape this embarrassing silence.  
"Do you have nightmares?" you asked hesitantly and the smile died away.  
"Do you have any?"  
He had caught you cold with it. But you wanted to be honest with him, if you asked him so directly.  
"Yes, often. But it also depends a lot on how my day was." You immediately regretted telling him. To give something of yours away was terrible and you always wished for seconds afterwards that you hadn't done it. But he just looked at you with a look you couldn't quite place - pain, exhaustion and a little compassion you thought you could see in it.  
"I know what you mean," he said so softly that you could hardly understand him. "And I've always been alone in this."  
"Until now," you added, rising from your chair.  
Again you remembered that you weren't wearing pants and sent a short prayer of thanks to heaven that it was dark and Bucky couldn't see your red face.  
You wished him a good night and went into the bedroom - of course not without putting a little more pep in your hips. You caught yourself thinking that you only did this if you wanted to end up with a man - is that what you wanted?


	6. I'll always be an alarmist

In the morning, it was only half past three, you were woken by a noise.  
"Bucky?", you shouted through the apartment, but there was no answer. You listened suspiciously into the darkness, but then you heard footsteps.  
"Are you awake?", you asked loudly and got up. Silently you walked through the kitchen on bare feet to the living room where you saw him standing in the middle of the room.  
At first he did not react to you, but then he turned to you.  
"Bucky...?", you asked, but froze as you tried to come closer. His whole posture was different - a very bad feeling came over you.  
"Прочь с дороги!"  
"What do you mean I should avoid you? Bucky, why the hell do you speak Russian?!", you asked further, but he was with you in a split second and pressed you with his metal forearm against the next wall. You gasped, your hands reached for his hand in panic to push him away from you.  
"Buc-", you started again, but he pushed further and pressed you against the wall with his body weight. You coughed and choked under the pressure of his strength, unable to free yourself from him. What was wrong with him?!  
He loosened the grip and you gasped for air. But before the dizziness in your head could disappear he grabbed you by your upper arm and waist and threw you across the room. You cried out, landing on the coffee table that broke underneath you.  
Groaning in pain, you came up on your carpet and held your side.  
"Bucky!", you came out tortured and spat some blood on the floor - you had bitten your tongue. "Stop it!"  
So that's what he meant when he said he was dangerous.  
He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up from the ground. You groaned heavily under the pressure of his metal hand and tried to pull yourself away from him. It was so much bigger and stronger than you, could break you like a match if necessary - how could you pull yourself out of this misery?  
You pushed yourself off the sofa with your feet, swung your body upwards and threw yourself over its shoulder. With this you brought him off balance, pulled his upper body backwards and thus escaped his iron grip.  
Man, you were really out of practice!  
Immediately he turned back to you, grabbed your waist with both hands and pressed you against the wall again with his full body weight. The air was pressed out of your lungs and a hoarse groan escaped you. If Bucky wasn't trying to kill you, this position would be very wicked - but you had other things on your mind!  
"Bucky!", you begged again, but his right hand closed around your throat and squeezed. Your hands panickedly searched for anything you could do to defend yourself. No matter what, just something that would prevent your certain death.  
You knew that wasn't your Bucky; the man who attacked you was the Winter Soldier. He didn't recognize you, which meant you were only minutes away from death.  
Last summer you complained about the ugly stone vase your mother gave you for your birthday. But now this terrible gift proved to be a lifesaver.  
You grabbed the vase and broke it on his head. He let go of you, staggered back, and with a succulent kick to the chest you carried him to your living room shelf.  
He did not move anymore and a fine trickle of blood ran down his forehead.  
Gasping and coughing, you gasped for air, leaned with your back against the wall and buried your face in your hands.  
What a fucking disaster!  
  


You pulled his motionless body out of the contents of the shelf - books, decor and some photo albums - and dragged him exhausted to the sofa. He moaned as you leaned him against the couch with his upper body and shuffled him into the kitchen with a sore side. You let some cool water run over a tea towel and dragged yourself back to him.  
Next to him, you sank exhausted to the carpet and carefully dabbed the blood from his face.  
He regained consciousness and was completely confused.  
"What-" he started, but then he flinched under your touch.  
"You had a bad dream," you replied, brushing the tousled hair from your forehead. "It's not so bad."  
He held his head, which must have hurt quite a bit after you had broken a heavy stone vase on it. The trembling in his body made you sigh compassionately - you knew he couldn't help it. He was sick, but he would blame himself.  
"Bucky, nothing happened," you said to him, but he took one look at your reddened neck, the blood at the corner of your mouth, and pushed you away from him.  
"I'm leaving," he rumbled and wanted to get up, but you clung to his arm and pulled him back down to you on the floor.  
"No! Bucky, please-" you shouted, but he fell into your mouth.  
"I could have killed you!" He was not angry or wrathful toward you, only his voice trembled with guilt and shame. Once again he blamed himself for things he was not responsible for and that was really starting to go against the grain for you.  
"But you didn't!" you replied heatedly and put a hand to his cheek to direct his gaze at you. "Have you already forgotten everything I told you? We are in the same boat, so stop playing the lone wolf, damn it!"  
He didn't reply, but took the towel off and wiped the rest of the blood off his face.  
You got up - rubbing your sore throat when you were out of his sight - and took your blanket from the bedroom. You threw it over your shoulders, went back to your 'patient' and put the blanket from the sofa around his upper body. He watched you do this, but did not fight you.  
"Let's see what's on the breakfast TV," you grumbled and turned on the TV. He didn't say anything, just watched you and then seemed to resignedly accept how you wanted to handle the situation.

  
"You are trained."  
Great.  
You turned off the TV and sighed deeply. It went in a direction you wanted to avoid.  
"What makes you think so?" you asked him. Bucky I looked out your eyes and cleared your throat.  
"I-I get everything I do when-"  
"Oh.", you interrupted him dryly and he seemed relieved not to have to finish this sentence. "And?"  
"You almost dislocated my shoulder," he said and now gave you a somewhat surprised look. "That came... unexpected."  
"I told you. Special Forces," you rumbled and crossed your arms. "I don't really want to talk about it."  
He hesitated briefly, but then nodded.  
"I understand all too well."  
You pulled the blanket tighter around your body and snorted. You wanted him to open up, but you found it even harder. What would he think of you if he learned the truth? You wanted him to like you - because you really loved him. This secretive, closed man had real problems - but so did you. A kindred spirit, you could say.  
Your time in the Special Forces had left you marked and scarred you deeply. Such a short time that had changed so much. At some point you would have to tell him, sooner or later. But you wanted to delay that moment as long as possible - because from that moment on, your beautiful facade of normal life was over.  
"Would you like some coffee?" you asked and Bucky nodded. But when you wanted to get up, he held you by the arm and lifted himself off the floor.  
"Leave me alone," he said. "Your coffee tastes too watery."  
"Hey!" you shouted, playing upset and threw a pillow off the sofa at him. You recognized the hint of a smile on his face and grinned - without being able to do anything about it.  
Damn, you really liked him!


	7. Anything for romance

"Okay, so" you drank a sip of coffee and had to pull yourself together hard not to make a face. Way too strong. "To make a long story short: You were in the museum, reading through the information boards. So you have some idea about Steve and, well, you."  
Bucky nodded.  
"Wouldn't it be better to - I don't know - just ask him," you kept on thinking, but all you got was a slight shake of the head.  
"It's not that simple," your counterpart replied and sighed slightly. "I have big gaps."  
The ice had been broken since your nightly encounter. Making each other bleed was the push you two needed to finally be able to talk to each other. After all, he now produced more than half a sentence per hour.  
You stared into your coffee for a quiet minute, but then looked at him with a sinister expression.  
"Would you do me a favor?", you asked and he just returned a questioning look. "Put some clothes on."  
He looked down at himself for a moment as he was still sitting at your kitchen table with his shirt off. It drove you crazy and that's exactly what you wanted to avoid. For if you were honest, you liked the sight extraordinarily. Damn, the man had muscles! And his left shoulder, where the transition from skin to metal was...  
After a refreshing shower, which soothed the horror of the day before, you trudged into the living room, while small drops came out of your hair and fell on your collarbone. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a fraction of a second, then he nodded to the TV he had been staring at spellbound.  
"Wa-", you started, but he froze instantly. "Oh FUCK."  
You sat down next to Bucky on the sofa and your mouth remained slightly open. Images of unbelievable destruction flickered through all the channels, special news everywhere. All programs were interrupted to describe the catastrophe in Sokovia. A country lying in ruins and a huge crater was shown, taken by airplanes and helicopters.  
"Not good," mumbled Bucky next to you and you nodded speechlessly. You put one hand on his metal arm and gave him a worried look. It wasn't hard to put one and one together - this misfortune had to do with the Avengers.  
"I'm going to do some shopping," you whispered after the two of you watched the news for half an hour and rose from the sofa. A global catastrophe did not change the fact that the refrigerator was empty. "Do you need anything?"  
"I'll come with you," he said immediately and followed you to the front door.  
"You don't have to," you said in surprise. "I'm literally right outside the front door in case you forgot."  
"Still," you got an answer and Bucky put on his jacket and gloves. You couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't just come along to stretch his legs - but said nothing more.  
  


The marketplace was almost empty. You had never experienced so little going on between the stands. But who was surprised, after today's events in Sokovia. People were probably glued to their TV sets and only those who could not afford such a device were wandering the streets of Bucharest as usual.  
As usual you bought vegetables and bread, but an unusual mood made you buy some wine. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to break out of the usual routine, you thought and looked around to the left. During your last visit with Bucky in tow, he had been very much on the sidelines, waiting for you in the distance - now he was standing right next to you, watching the surroundings closely.  
"Are you afraid I might be kidnapped," you asked him quietly and gave him an amused look. He just shook his head and said nothing. Was he trying to protect you? And if so, from what?  
"Now don't be so nervous," you whispered to him. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."  
"That's not it," he replied dryly. "When these things happen in the world... it brings out the dark in people. ...everywhere."  
"You're a real pessimist," you laughed, but inside you agreed with him. You leaned slightly towards him. "But sweet that you care for me."  
He avoided your gaze - God, did you embarrass him?!  
Amused, you rummaged the shopping list out of your pocket and checked if you had forgotten anything. It looked pretty good so far, except for the fruit stand. As always you would buy some plums for Bucky, even if you didn't know what he liked about them. They didn't taste that great, but tastes were different, as you know.  
Loaded with purchases, you stopped at the corner of the market and made sure you hadn't forgotten anything. It would be stupid if you had to go again because of a little thing! Meanwhile, Bucky made a short detour to the newsstand so you were alone for a few minutes.  
A man in a trench coat walked past you, paused just behind your back and you got goose bumps all over your back.  
"Cartonas galben," you heard his dark voice and when you turned around he had already disappeared into the next alley. Your heart began to race suddenly and cold sweat broke out.  
Impossible.  
That was simply impossible!  
"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky put one hand on your shoulder and you twitched in shock. He pulled you out of your trance and his surprised but worried look did not make your shaky hands any better.  
"We must go," you hissed forcefully and grabbed his hand. "Now!"  
"Can you please tell me what's going on?" he followed up, but you shook your head.  
"Not here," you replied fiercely and virtually dragged him home to the apartment block. He asked no more questions, followed you silently up the stairs and waited until the apartment door fell into the lock behind you.  
You threw off your jacket, hurried to the door and double-locked it.  
"Will you explain it to me now," he asked in a calm, appeasing voice. "What happened in the two minutes when I wasn't standing right behind you?"  
You drove through your hair, anxious to calm yourself down. You were about to answer, but a wave of panic seized you and you reached into one of the shopping bags to pull out the bottle of wine.  
Wordlessly you opened it and poured yourself a bulbous glass. The first half of the glass you fell down in one go and swallowed hard against the acrid taste of alcohol.  
"They are watching me," you said. "I've just been given a yellow card - a warning."  
"Why didn't you say anything? I wasn't far away," said Bucky, who had meanwhile hung his own jacket over the back of the chair. But then you shook your head vigorously.  
"No, Bucky - it's no use," you choked out between two more sips of red wine. Calm down, you had to calm down. "You can't avoid them. Anywhere, they'd find me."  
His face darkened and he seemed to think for a moment. Then he poured himself a glass of wine and leaned next to you at the kitchen counter, in silence.  
"You are not the only one who runs away from someone," you muttered and took a deep breath. The sudden panic began to subside and gave way to a tremendous exhaustion. You closed your eyes and tried with all your might to stop the shaking in your hand.  
"Never was my taste," you heard Bucky murmuring and gave him a quick sideways glance. He waved the wine in the glass and sipped on it again briefly.  
"I'll remember that," you murmur, but were grateful for his very abrupt change of subject. "Beer next time?"  
He nodded in agreement and you leaned on his right shoulder, eyes closed. Why was his body heat so much more soothing than the wine?  
  


"Now hold still," you grumbled annoyed.  
Bucky didn't say anything about it, but it was you who couldn't keep her balance too well anymore. After the sixth glass of wine, you decided to look at the wound on his head, which you had caused. You kneeled on the sofa to get close to his size - with him sitting backed up next to you. Man, he was really big!  
"Looks pretty good," you muttered and let your fingertips slide over his temple. "I'm really sorry by the way. I didn't do it on purpose."  
Your tongue was heavy and the words blurred a bit; you were pretty tipsy. Your cheeks felt much too warm and no matter what you did, you desperately needed an excuse to touch Bucky. Sure, he was a looker and you liked him very, very much. But that could never work with two such complicated souls like you...  
Your fingers slipped through the brown hair and you watched with open mouth how the muscles in his chest moved when he turned to you.  
"Oh man...", you muttered faintly - wine always made you very woozy. You knew that these highly suggestive thoughts would embarrass you tomorrow, but you didn't have to care about that now!  
But even under the sweatshirt you could see the contours of the muscles that were rising and falling in the slow rhythm of his breaths. Your winged mind slipped into fantasies that surpassed anything you had ever seen before. Just the thought of how easily he could carry you to bed with his metal arm made your blood pressure rise. How you would like to bury your hands in his brown mane - and at the thought of his rough moaning you had to pull yourself together not to make a sound of yourself.  
What was the saying? 'Alcohol makes you honest'.  
And apparently you finally admitted to yourself how keen you were on James 'Bucky' Barnes.  
You straightened up a bit and looked him in the eye.  
"We should have sex," you mumbled, dead serious.  
That's, uh... because Bucky suddenly stood up and pulled you up off the sofa.  
"You should be asleep," he replied dryly and led you straight to your bedroom. He pushed you to the bed, giving you the dull feeling that he was embarrassed.  
"Come schooon," you sounded encouraging and dropped yourself on the bed - not without grabbing him by the arm and pulling him onto the mattress with you, of course.  
"No," he said with a short limp and escaped your grip. "You are drunk."  
"A lie. You are lying to me."  
But you curled yourself up to the tip of your nose in your blanket, sighing as you felt a warm hand running over your hair.  
"Good night."


	8. And though there is a new life line...

"I'm so fucking sorry."  
Your head was on the kitchen table - you were too ashamed to look at it.  
"It's okay."  
"It's not okay," you grumbled and buried your face in your hands - it would be great if you could just sink into the ground. All this was much too embarrassing!  
"It wasn't that bad," Bucky tried to calm you down. "It was... entertaining."  
"You're just saying that to make me feel better."  
You sighed hard and deeply, took a sip of coffee and tried not to think about the throbbing in your skull. Of course, this could only happen to you again!  
"It's probably because I'm just, well, let's say, a little irritable."  
He narrowed his eyes a bit, didn't seem to understand what you meant.  
"Well, you know, the bad week," you kept talking and he just stared at you uncomprehendingly. "My period."  
"Oh." He broke eye contact with you and looked away somewhat embarrassed.  
"You know, when women have their periods they become sexmonst- Why the hell am I telling you this anyway?!" you said in the middle of the sentence and buried your red face in your hands again.  
He didn't say anything else, but sipped wordlessly on his coffee. How many times could you embarrass yourself in just one day?  
Crumpled up, as you felt, you got up and went into the bathroom. Behind the closed door you groaned in annoyance - could it be any more embarrassing than this whole action?  
  


"Even if the world is once again in the middle of a catastrophe," you said and leaned against the window frame. "Even then, at least the night sky is the same as always."  
"Kitschy," it sounded softly from the sofa and your annoyed look wandered to the dark-haired man who was still watching news programs. The more time you spent together, the bolder he became towards you. Two weeks had passed since your nightly brawl and if your apartment wasn't so small, you would call your current living situation a 'flat share'.  
Except for the nightmares that either you or Bucky were having. If one woke up it woke up the other one and so far you two haven't found a solution to the problem.  
So night after night it got later and later until you two were barely asleep.  
You sat at the open window every night and enjoyed the warm summer air - with three liters of coffee inside - while Bucky knew the nightly program of the TV by heart.  
You could hardly express it any other way: I was two wrecks that could not get out of their depression. But in the last few years you had managed to lock away the memories to a place hidden deep in your soul. But then Bucky came along and tore open old wounds - and it bled even more than before. And as much as it hurt - was it really wrong to finally deal with the past?  
"What time is it?", you asked your 'roommate'. He looked at you briefly from the TV and shrugged his shoulders.  
"It should be about 4:00."  
"It's only 4:00," you grumbled grumpyly and put on another cup of coffee.  
That was ridiculous. How long do you think you could go without a regular sleeping pattern? Stay awake until you were absolutely exhausted and then pass out somewhere in the apartment?  
"We have to think of something," you growled, stepped over some empty energy cans and threw yourself on the sofa to Bucky. He slipped a little to the side, made room for you and kept staring blankly into the flickering of the TV.  
"What's on?"  
"An action movie."  
"Well?" You kept going, but all you got was a head shake.  
"Horrible.  
"As if you had so much experience with movies." You teased him. "At night, only the bad movies are shown!"  
In response you were thrown the remote control, but you saw the amused sparkle in his eyes and the hint of a smile. Although you enjoyed the togetherness, it just couldn't go on like that. You had to come up with a solution!  
  


The loud chirping of the birds through the open window woke you up around noon.  
You needed a moment to find your way around - firstly that it was already so late, secondly that you were lying on something very soft and that you had slept through for the first time in weeks!  
"Bucky!", you cried immediately after this realization. You looked up, only now realizing the position of you two. He lay stretched out on the sofa, you between his legs and lying on his upper body - missionary position so to speak.  
"What is it?" he growled, upset that you had woken him. "Let me sleep."  
"That's just it! Bucky we slept through!!", you tapped his chest encouragingly and could hardly contain your euphoria.  
He lifted his head jerkily when he finally noticed that you were lying on top of him in a very clear position.  
"Get off me."  
You hesitated for a moment, thought hard - what had been different that night? Then your gaze fell on his somewhat outraged expression and a light came on.  
"We have to sleep together," you shouted.  
"We've been through that."  
"That's not what I mean!"  
You got up and thought about it feverishly. It might even work!  
"Maybe a little closeness is exactly what we need! And I'm not talking about sex," you babbled eagerly. "More of the feeling of security, you know!"  
  


"No."  
"Oh, come on, now. Don't you want to get back to sleep?"  
You dragged Bucky to your bedroom the next night, insisting you'd found the solution to all your problems. Security was a feeling that was foreign to both of you. And after all the hustle and bustle of the past few weeks, a little security did you good. At least it was worth a try!  
"You don't even know if it was that," he complained and turned away. "I sleep on the sofa. Tonight is the repeat of 'I Am Legend'."  
"Buuucky!", you started screaming and even though you tried with all your strength to keep him in the bedroom, he just dragged you around the apartment while you kept pulling on his metal arm. "Please, let us try. I just want to sleep!"  
"Me too." He gave you a look of pain. "But did you ever think what would happen if I had a nightmare and was lying right next to you?"  
You flinched a little - he was right about that. But it was worth the risk!  
"Last time I knocked you out," you replied and grabbed his metal wrist with both hands. "James, please trust me!"  
He paused when you called him by his first name. He thought for a moment, but then his shoulders went limp and he nodded.  
"I don't mind... But if anything should happen..."  
"It will be fine, I promise!" you said and pulled him back into the bedroom with you again.  
  


You put the last pillow in place and happily folded your hands on his chest.  
"You see. Nothing can happen."  
He didn't answer, he just sighed annoyed.  
You had built a boundary of pillows between the two of you that was supposed to prevent any form of 'accidents'. Your enormous tiredness had already weakened your judgment here to such an extent that you actually thought a row of cushions would prevent something worse.  
Satisfied, you closed your eyes and waited for the coming, restful sleep.  
And waited.  
Always waiting.  
"Fuck," you growled after two hours of rolling restlessly from one side to the other. Bucky was also still awake and seemed to still be convinced that this was not a good idea.  
"I'm afraid we'll have to take drastic measures," you said decisively and carelessly kicked the pillows from the bed to the floor.  
"What does d-"  
Bucky flinched a little when you approached him and put your head on his chest. He stiffened instantly, but sighed deeply and put one arm over his upper body. Even through his clothes you could feel the warmth of his skin and hear the dull beating of his heart.  
After a few minutes he relaxed a bit and closed his eyes. His breath went with more and more calm and steady and already in half sleep you could feel him putting his arm around your shoulder.  
And for the first time in two weeks you both slept through a whole night.  
  



	9. ... I can't forget the one I left behind.

You sighed a pleasant sigh and pressed yourself close to the source of warmth. Sleeping could be so damn beautiful!  
Even Bucky was still half asleep, his hand was running through the strands of your hair and he didn't seem to want to let go of you.  
"Buck," you muttered to his chest. "We have to get up."  
"Mmm," he just growled and rolled over on his side with you in his arms. The metal hand buried at your waist and the other in your hair, he pulled you closer into his embrace. To the point where you could no longer hold back a laugh.  
"For thinking it was a stupid idea, you're pretty clingy," you said, leaning your forehead against his chest. He snorted in amusement, but then loosened the grip around your upper body and looked down at you.  
Your heart missed a beat when you looked into the blue eyes for a second - and leaned forward. It was only a brief, fleeting encounter of your lips, but you immediately flinched back and pushed him away from you.  
"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I- Oh, shit-"  
"It's okay," he calmed you down and sat up. "Really."  
Red as a tomato, you buried your face in your hands and muttered apologies to yourself. Putting your foot in your mouth was really your thing when you liked a man!  
"I'll make us some coffee."  
"Good idea," you mumbled between your fingers and curled up into a little pile of misery. The problem was not that you had kissed him - but that you wanted more. Your heart was almost overflowing with excitement and euphoria and you had to pull yourself together, not squeak like a love-crazed teenager.  
This was probably the proof that this was not just a friendly relationship.  
But what did he think about it?  
  


When you came into the kitchen, Bucky stood at the window and waited until your coffee had run through. You stepped next to him and looked up at him in silence - only to frown in amazement.  
The sparkle in his eyes looked familiar - it resembled the look of the Winter Soldier. But what could have caused such a sudden change? What was the trigger?  
You got your answer promptly when his metal hand closed around your wrist and pulled you close. Scared, you gasped, but he already maneuvered you with his body against the kitchen counter and lifted you onto the sideboard with playful ease.  
"Buc-" He interrupted you by kissing you - but not as tenderly as you did earlier in the morning.  
Hungry, he forced his lips on you and the grip on your thigh became a little tighter. You gasped into the kiss, completely unprepared for this 'attack'. Your hands ran across his chest up to his hair, in which your fingers were lost. You grasped firmly and elicited a hoarse groan from him.  
"Why this sudden impulse?" you asked him breathlessly. "I never expected this from you."  
A harsh laugh sent a little shiver down your spine.  
"Oh, please," he rumbled and kissed the tender skin on your neck. "I've barely had sex for 70 years. And you jumping around in your underwear at night doesn't make it any better."  
"Okay, my bad," you murmur with a big grin and start unbuttoning the buttons on his sweatshirt. "But maybe you shouldn't loll around on my sofa with your top off."  
"So you want me to stop?" He pressed his pelvis firmly against yours to underline the question.  
You gasped, shaking your head.  
"Don't you dare," you replied and ran your hands under his top. The scars at the transition to the metal arm and the abrupt difference from warm to cold made your fingers shake.  
You wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him even closer to you - if that was still possible. His metal hand went on, higher and higher, until it reached your bottom and drew another sound of lust from you. You pressed your upper body close to him while he sank his teeth into your neck. His free hand went up, under your top and under the fabric of your bra. Warm fingers irritated the sensitive skin and made your heart beat even faster.  
The tingling in your stomach moved further south and no matter how hard you tried to talk it out, it was undeniable: Only the thought of sex dominated you and your senses - and Bucky seemed to be no different. He tried to avoid every millimeter of space between your bodies, and as tight as he pressed his pelvis against yours, you felt exactly how much it was taking him.  
"Wait," Bucky suddenly growled and leaned his forehead against your collarbone. His breath was heavy and you saw light beads of sweat on his neck. "Stop it."  
"Are you going too fast," you asked breathlessly, but he shook his head.  
"No, it's not that." His blue eyes looked for his gaze and you flinched a little. His look was hungry and uncontrolled - he looked like a predator. "I... I can't control myself if we go on."  
"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself," you muttered, still fueled by the situation. "Please, go on!"  
"No." He released himself from your grip, to your deepest disappointment. He ran through your hair and chewed on your lower lip - you could jump on him for that alone. "I'd better take a cold shower."  
You moaned in frustration, slipped off the counter and followed his walk to the bathroom with your eyes. When he closed the door behind him, you stuck your head in the sink and let cool water run over your head to get some of your adrenaline rush back.  
  


In the afternoon, you went to the market, completely elsewhere in your mind. You could be sure that the wild groping was not a one-time thing, but next time you would have to do it a little bit differently - your hunting instinct was aroused!  
Maybe a little romance? Or just spontaneously?  
"Nice to see you again."  
You turned around and dropped the bag with the fruit on the floor.  
Behind you stood the guy who had warned you. You knew what it meant.  
He reached for your groceries, picked it up off the floor and handed the bag to you with a cold smile. You picked up the plums and wished for nothing more than to be home.  
The man gestured to silence and crossed his arms behind your back. Under his hat you could see some cold, calculating grey eyes. Rat eyes.  
"Much too beautiful a day for such a serious occasion," he said and nodded politely at you. "I'm sure you know why I'm here."  
Your fingertips went numb, every feeling left your body - you felt exactly as you did then.  
You nodded silently.  
"You were asked not to interfere. You were warned." The cold, gray eyes pierced yours and left no doubt that you had a serious problem. "These are things that do not concern you."  
"They are my business," you now replied defiantly. "He has done nothing wrong - at least not deliberately!"  
"This man is property of Russia."  
"He is not property!" you hissed and stepped a little closer to your counterpart. "He is a man! A man whose mind has been broken into a thousand little pieces, just so you can have your private killer defrost and send him off at any time!  
"Consider your tone, Captain." His voice became cutting and a more than clear warning came out of it. "Otherwise, there's a good chance she'll be called up again."  
"Yes, sir," you growled, your voice trembling with rage. "Pardon me, sir."  
"Your next move should be clear," he admonished you, and took off his hat. "Have a pleasant day, Captain."  
He turned away, put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and whistled a song as he followed the path down the market.  
You stood there for a moment, with tears in your eyes and completely overwhelmed by your emotions.   
  
Now everything was fucked.


	10. I hope I'll always be what you want

"I retired two years ago. Special circumstances were called for in Moscow," you said and closed your eyes. It was time to talk about it. "Noapte Viu, also called 'Living Night', was a special force consisting of the best people in the military. We were the best trained officers and generals under the direct command of the Kremlin.  
"What was your mission?" Bucky asked quietly.  
The two of you sat together at the kitchen table in the light of the glowing red sunset shining through the window.  
"Wipe it out," you replied coolly. "We were sent when it came to - well, complicated clean-up work. Terrorists, organizations, spy cells; where we appeared, no stone was left unturned. And no head on his body."  
The grip around your cup got tighter.  
"Our last mission was... problematic. Field work on the Mongolian border. "We were sent to cripple a pathogenogen development facility. "We reduced the entire village to rubble. Supposedly it was a cover set up to hide the underground facility. It was a massacre and, I- we-"  
You faltered, trying to ignore the painful lump in your throat. Tears gathered in your eyes and you flinched briefly when you felt a warm hand on yours. You looked into two blue eyes and pulled yourself together.  
"A bloodbath," you muttered and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "The facility was shut down, but in retrospect we learned that this was no fake village. The inhabitants knew nothing of the military base under their feet."  
"You were following orders," Bucky said reassuringly.  
"That's just it!" you shouted angrily and now tears were rolling down your cheeks. "Buck, it was women and children who died that day!"  
He sighed, hesitating briefly.  
"I killed too many people. Every face is burned into my memory," he said softly and sighed heavily. "I remember everything - but I couldn't avert it."  
"Fortunately I broke my back during the mission," you muttered. "I am no longer fit for duty."  
"I want to be who I was."  
"I just want to forget."  
The two of you looked at each other, each overwhelmed by his pain. You gently stroked his hand with your fingertips and interlocked your fingers with his.  
"We are very much alike," you whispered and wiped your eyes again with your free hand. "I'm just not sure if this is such a good thing."  
"And they're still watching you?"  
You nodded.  
"They will never stop. Me helping you doesn't make them happy."  
"Then I have to go," he said immediately and stood up from the kitchen table.  
"What?! No, wait!" you shouted in shock and grabbed him by the wrist. "You idiot, that's not what I mean at all!"  
You jumped up and put your hand on his cheek.  
"If they want you, they'll have to go through me first!"  
He snorted in amusement, but you saw the hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth - he was embarrassed.  
Your hand broke free from his, raised his arm and lay on his shoulder. He took a step closer to you and pulled you into an uncertain embrace. You laid your head on his chest and sighed deeply. He did not hate you for what you had done. On the contrary, he had your back and could understand the pain - much more than you could have hoped for in your wildest dreams. It would have been more obvious if he had immediately disappeared through the front door and never, never came back.  
But he stayed with you.  
  


The next morning you woke up well-rested, even if still a little eaten up by your conversation the night before. You hated to expose yourself to someone so openly, to be vulnerable. But with Bucky, it was different; Bucky knew what it was like to regret things with all your heart and not be able to change anything. To feel responsible for terrible things and to be responsible for the death of many people - a tragedy that bound you together.  
"Hey, wake up," you mumbled and pushed him a little bit of you to sit up. But the dark-haired man just growled, not thrilled that the source of warmth disappeared next to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back onto the mattress. You smiled gently as he buried his face in your hair and seemed to enjoy your scent.  
"Let go. I want to make breakfast," you whispered to him and stroked his head. You received a resigned sigh in response and were released from the iron grip.  
"Thank you." You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and stood up.  
After a hearty yawn and stretch you looked at him again and saw two blue eyes lying on your body. A mischievous grin flitted across your face, but your stomach attracted attention with a loud growl and you trudged sleepily into the kitchen.  
"Waffles... Or scrambled eggs...?", you muttered to yourself indecisively, your head in the refrigerator. Both sounded quite promising.  
You looked up briefly as Bucky followed you into the kitchen, dressed only in his tattered jeans. Reluctantly, you turned your furtive gaze away from him to finally come to a breakfast decision.  
"What would you like to eat," you asked over your shoulder. "I'm leaning towards eggs."  
He shrugged his shoulders wordlessly, which you could interpret as 'yes' by now. Although he was no longer mute like a fish, he still had very little to say.  
You took the box of eggs from the refrigerator and leaned against the kitchen table - just in your underwear and a short top. You saw how the blue eyes struggled to detach from the middle of your body, but then you scurried up and looked up at your face.  
You leaned forward lasciviously and put on a grin.  
"I even have bacon," you said. "Interested?"  
Bucky laughed slightly and nodded - of course you two had anything but bacon on your minds.  
"Very much so," he replied.  
"Coming right up, honey." You leaned forward and kissed him, then you both noticed.  
"Did you just-"  
"Oh shit, sorry!"  
You looked away in embarrassment, and you turned the corners of your mouth downwards. Embarrassing again!  
"Bucky, I'm sorry. I'm just so comfortable with you and-"  
"No, it's okay, really, I feel comfortable with you," he said, also very unpleasantly touched by the situation. "I just think-"  
"No, you're absolutely right!" You slammed the pan onto the stove with a bang and avoided looking at it by all means. God, could you please just sink into the ground?! "Won't happen again, I promise!"  
"Listen-" he started, but you were so damn embarrassed by the whole thing that you didn't even listen to him properly. Hurriedly you began to throw the eggs into the pan, with more than a piece of shell making it into the scrambled egg. He twisted his eyes for a moment, stood up and turned your shoulder towards him. With a tortured expression on your face you sighed heavily.  
"I'm sorry," you repeated yourself, "we haven't known each other long and we have more than enough problems. And then I come with this and ruin everything!"  
"You're not breaking anything," he contradicted you and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. "I just think that it's not quite the right situation to pretend that life is normal. I am wanted, you are being watched by the military. I'm trying to be the real Bucky again, and you're gonna have to work some stuff out."  
That was probably the longest sentence he had ever spoken in your presence, it shot through your head.  
"We should take it easy. It'll save us a lot of pain."  
"Okay," you nodded the whole thing off and took a deep breath. Your gaze went up to his eyes. "But you're still interested in bacon?"  
He could not help but snort an amused snort and nodded.  
"I'm a man - I'm always interested in bacon."


	11. Oh baby, don't you know I suffer

"Okay, that's it." Bucky looked at you in surprise when you suddenly jumped up and put your hands on your hips. "Stand up."  
But after a brief, confused hesitation, he obeyed and got up from the sofa. With questioning facial expressions he looked at you, but you only grabbed the collar of his sweatshirt and pulled him behind you.  
"What is this," he murmured while you pulled him into the bedroom.  
You maneuvered him to the bed and then finally let go of his red shirt. He narrowed his eyes, seemed to suspect what you were getting at.  
"Bucky. I can't take it anymore," you said and sighed heavily. "We can't sneak around each other every day and pretend nothing is wrong!"  
"What do you mean?" he reached out and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
"You know very well!"  
He shook his head and avoided your gaze again and again - of course he knew what you meant.  
"James," you called out, meanwhile already angered by his dismissive behavior. "Come on, don't play dumb."  
"You know my opinion on this," he replied dryly and lowered his gaze to the ground. "I do not want to hurt you."  
You moan annoyed - drama queen! But fine, if he thought he could resist you, you would put that to the test right away.  
"So you're not interested in sex with me?" you asked.  
He swallowed - but then nodded.  
"I am not interested."  
"Then you don't mind if I do" You pulled your top and bra off your torso in one flowing movement and threw it into the next corner. Bucky pulled in the air sharply and turned his back on you instantly.  
"Put your clothes back on," he hissed and nervously ran his fingers through your hair.  
But instead of listening to him, you stepped up to him and pressed yourself against his back. You felt the trembling that went through his body and how he wriggled out of your grip.  
"Stop it." His voice was flat and there was a slight begging in it, which gave you goose bumps on your back.  
"Doesn't sound like I should stop," you said and your hands went to the waistband of his jeans. "you sure?"  
He hesitated.  
"Stop it," he repeated. "please."  
You sighed in resignation and put your forehead against his back.  
"I'm sorry," you mumbled embarrassed. "I didn't mean to rush you."  
"It's not that," he said, his shoulders drooping. "I just can't tell you how far I can control myself."  
You nodded understandingly. Of course he was right - the mental manipulations implanted by HYDRA were deep-seated and reached to the very core. He was afraid of hurting you and completely losing control, as he had already done a few weeks before, albeit under different circumstances. While you both were doing well so far, at least well enough to cope with a normal everyday life, what happened when something unforeseen came walking through your front door? Would your newly built walls break down? You could only hope that it would not happen.  
  


It was night and you were bouncing restlessly back and forth, tossing around and for some reason every position was uncomfortable. Your thoughts raced through your head like a train and kept you awake for hours.  
Even Bucky got too stupid at some point and he sat up.  
"What's wrong?" he asked, with an annoyed undertone in his voice. "Still on about that?"  
You sighed and nodded.  
"Yes. I'm worried."  
"You'd better sleep."  
"I'm trying!" you hissed aggressively, but immediately regretted having given him the nudge It wasn't his fault. "I'm sorry, it's just... If you're not comfortable with this, maybe we should, I don't know... Start slow?"  
"What do you think?"  
"Well, I just..." You pushed the blanket off you and hesitated for a moment, but then turned to him and sat down on one lap with your legs spread. Immediately his upper body tightened, but you put your hands on his bare chest. "We slowly groped our way up."  
Determinedly you bent down to him and pressed a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth.  
"I don't know if--" You didn't let him say another word, but gently put your lips on his. His hands lay on your back and goose bumps ran up to your neck as the bare metal touched your skin. Instinctively, you pressed your pelvis closer to him and your kiss quickly became more agitated and demanding. Your hands stroked up to his neck and into his hair. Your grip became firmer and you pulled lightly on it, causing him to sigh. He followed your action and let his warm fingers glide through your strands, which also caused you to become increasingly agitated.  
Your lips separated from him and while you, already panting, leaned your face against the bend of his neck, he irritated the tender skin on your neck with light kisses and hungry bites.  
The metal hand wandered down your back to the waistband of your underwear and a particularly excited gasping escaped you as he crossed that line, strengthening his grip and a butt. In response, you began to press your pelvis ever further against him - you had to remind yourself that you wanted to take it 'slow'.  
"Bucky...!", you breathlessly breathed as he let his hand go down in your hair, from your back to your side to your chest. His fingertips made your skin glow and you felt your cheeks getting warmer with every kiss and touch.  
Your own impatience was unbearable, all you could think of was having him above you, sweating, naked and moaning your name. The thought alone made you tremble with expectation, and you felt only too clearly that it carried him away as much as you did.  
Your own hands went down his chest, following the contours of his muscles to the waistband of his trousers.  
"You have to stop wearing these stupid jeans in bed," you growled and stroked your fingers across his crotch, holding his breath for a split second. You leaned a little closer to him.  
"It's much too tight," you murmur lasciviously into his ear. "We should change that."  
Cleverly, you opened the button and without further ado, with one hand in the waistband. Surprised, you raised your brows.  
"Just the jeans? That's all?", you asked, but a little perplexed. Damn, that only turned you on all the more!  
But Bucky was unable to give you an answer when your fingertips had found their target and you stroked, agonizingly slowly, over his shaft. He growled impatiently, leaning his head against your chest, and you watched with growing enthusiasm as his breath became more irregular by the second. As you embraced him completely and your movement became faster, he groaned and strengthened the already firm grip around your bottom even more.  
"H-Stop it," he muttered faintly, but you shook your head.  
"Your body tells me something quite different," you whispered to him and pressed your body closer to him.  
He grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand out of his pants. You scolded yourself for pushing him to do something he didn't seem to want to do, but when you saw his look you realized that this was not the case at all. He stared at you from two blue, greedy eyes and before you knew it he grabbed you by the hip and threw you on your back.  
The mattress groaned under the sudden shift of weight and within a second Bucky was above you, the jeans randomly thrown into some corner of the room. You looked at him expectantly, raising your waist so that he could free you from your underwear. Every disturbing shred of fabric was banished from your bodies and found its place on the carpet. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you, kissed him and angled your legs so that he found a comfortable place in between.  
He didn't say a word, just tried with all his effort to calm his breathing a bit. You felt the hot breaths on your skin and how his hand ran over your breasts, making its way further south. The question whether this was going too fast for him was probably superfluous here.  
You groaned loudly as he sank two fingers into you without much hesitation. Longing sighs escaped you while your hands got caught in his hair.  
"James, please...", you brought forth breathlessly - a more than sufficient invitation for your partner. He grabbed you roughly at the hip and pulled you closer to him, so that he could glide into you without even a second of hesitation. His rough, throaty moaning gave you pleasant goose bumps all over your body and you joined in. Despite the preparatory work of his deft fingers, it took you a moment to get used to his size, but that didn't seem to interest him at that moment. He leaned over you, supported himself with his forearms on the mattress and set a deep and hard rhythm. With every movement you pressed your pelvis a little bit against him, your body begging for more.  
"Deeper," you begged breathlessly and your wish was immediately fulfilled. Bucky sat up, pulled you along with him with ease and pushed himself even further into you until you couldn't make a sound except for sighing and wheezing. With his metal hand he lifted your body, only to let it slide down again and again, while he, like you, struggled for air with every breath.  
Your own hand went between your bodies and pushed yourself further and further until you felt that you were almost at your peak. With his name on your lips, you let your orgasm greedily roll over you and enjoy every single wave of pleasure to the full. His rhythm became harder and faster until he finally groaned deeply and stopped shortly after you.  
Exhausted, you leaned back, wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back onto the mattress. For a minute you both gasped for breath, your heads wiped clean by the euphoria and adrenaline.  
"I say yes," you gasped and threw an embarrassed grin at him. "Go slow."  
He snorted in amusement, pulled you a little closer and buried his face in your tousled hair.  
  



	12. A new little life

"Bucky!" you shouted through the closed door and tears gathered in your eyes. "Don't leave me alone!"  
With a cry you rode up, your hands on your chest and breathing heavily. Immediately Bucky was awake and sat up, one hand on your back.  
"What's wrong?!" he asked alarmed, but you didn't get a word out. Wordlessly you gasped for breath until a few seconds later you burst into tears with a tortured groan. You threw yourself against his upper body and couldn't make a halfway meaningful sentence. Completely overrun, he stroked your back and pulled you closer to him.  
"A nightmare?," he asked and you nodded whimperingly.  
"I-I was alone," you stammered dissipated. "You left me a-alone!"  
He sighed slightly and put his chin down on your head while his hand moved from your back into your hair and gently scratched your neck.  
"I will not leave you alone."  
"I know you won't," you sniffed demoralized and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "You wouldn't. But please, promise me you wouldn't."  
"Of course I would." He put a kiss on your forehead. "I promise I won't leave you alone."  
A little soothed, you nodded and let him put you back on the mattress. The trembling in your muscles subsided steadily, but the queasy feeling in your stomach remained. Often you had had nightmares, could hardly sleep for weeks, but that was something completely different. Usually you only dreamed about things past, about things you had done. It haunted you until today, but this bad dream was of completely new dimensions. Losing Bucky scared you more than anything you'd ever felt before and that fact allowed only one conclusion: That you fell in love with him.  
That meant problems.  
  


The chirping of the birds woke you both the next morning and the first thing you felt from half asleep were warm lips on your temple.  
"Feeling better?", you heard the rough, tired voice of him and you nodded sleepily.  
"A little, yes," you muttered and rubbed your eyes. "A hot shower would be great right now."  
"That can be arranged."  
Startled, you squeaked up when he pulled you from the bed and carried you into the bathroom without any problems. Your hands wrapped around his neck and you soaked up his scent with relish. The tips of his hair tickled your cheeks and a pleasant sigh escaped you in the face of his soothing body heat.  
"What do you think about a hot bath instead of a shower," he asked you and you just nodded silently - that was good too.  
The hot water elicited a satisfied but incomprehensible murmur from you as it touched your skin. It was a wonderful temperature and for a moment you wondered if he felt heat or cold with his metal arm. Probably not, because that would probably be quite impractical in fights.  
"Make some room." With your mind still asleep and your eyes still closed, you nodded and slid forward a little - only in the next few seconds did you understand that he wanted to join you.  
Immediately you opened your eyes and got a good look at his naked body. You couldn't resist a grin, but he ignored it and sank behind you into the warm water.  
A relaxed moaning escaped him, which gave you pleasant goose bumps on your back. You leaned backwards so that your back was comfortably leaning against his chest.  
"I've never taken a bath early in the morning," you said and pushed some foam through the water.  
"Me neither."  
"I'm sure you've never taken a bath the way you stink," you teased him, but all you got was some foam on your face. You couldn't resist a giggle and leaned even closer against him.  
"Is that better?", he asked you and you nodded gratefully.  
"Yes, very much so. It was a horrible dream, I've never had such a bad dream."  
"You'd think we'd be experts in something like this," he replied dryly and you leaned your head back.  
"Yes, you'd think..."  
You remained silent for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth and closeness, until he sat up and leaned forward a little.  
"What ma-aah!" Your amazement turned into a pleasant sigh as his hands moved forward from your back to your belly and moved further south. In the hot water, even his metal arm was warm and comfortable, especially when he began to caress the inside of your thighs. You breathe in deeply and with pleasure while you stretched your arms backwards to reach into his hair.  
His left hand had found its target and moved slowly, almost agonizingly across your middle. With each of his movements, your breath became faster and more irregular and your sighs of pleasure grew louder. Your own voice resounded again in the bathroom, crowned by a loud groan as he slipped into you with two fingers. Your grip in his hair immediately strengthened and elicited a harsh sigh from him as well.  
"More...!", you begged in a high voice. You would have expected that the metal would feel uncomfortable, almost rough, but that was not the case. On the contrary, the unyielding nature of the artificial hand made it all the more enticing.  
His right hand was added and it only took a few minutes before you felt the wonderful tension in your muscles and surrendered completely to your orgasm, moaning loudly.  
Exhausted but satisfied, you turned slightly to him and gave him a grateful kiss.  
"Your turn," you muttered lasciviously and closed your hand around his already hard shaft. Gently you stroked down on it, watching how he leaned his head into the neck and his chest lifted abruptly with the touch. Now it was up to him to surrender himself to the art of your hands and he seemed to enjoy it to the fullest.  
Fascinated you watched the movements of his muscles, every breath he took and how violently he reacted to your movements, which became faster and stronger.  
His hand went up to your hair and got caught between the wet strands of your hair.  
"You like that, huh?" you whispered to him and moved your hand up and down even faster.  
"Shit, yes," he brought out breathlessly and grabbed your hair even tighter. "Don't stop!"  
A dark, satisfied laugh escaped you as he begged you to continue. You could feel his body tense up to the point where he paused and moaned your name with a dark, animalistic undertone.  
It took him a minute to control his breathing and pulled you close. A grateful, nervous kiss was your reward, and two blue eyes sparkled at you with a clouded look.  
"The bath was a wonderful idea," you muttered to his lips. "We must do this more often."  
"Absolutely," he growled, exhausted.  
  


"Buck, have you the cat-" Your sentence was interrupted when he grabbed you by the hem of your top and dragged you to the floor. "What the hell!"  
But the very next moment the glass in your TV broke into a thousand pieces. Your gaze caught the red dot that was now on the wall next to the shelf.  
"Snipers?!" you shouted angrily. "Why are snipers shooting at my TV? It was expensive!"  
Bucky was on the floor next to you, rolling his eyes. He crawled up to the window and carefully looked outside.  
"Hard to tell if they want me or you," he rumbled as you crawled on your stomach to him. It was a really interesting question - who was shooting up your furniture and what did that someone want to do with it?  
"On the roof," said the dark-haired man and you moaned annoyed. Why did the trouble just keep finding you?! "Right across the street."  
"And how are we supposed to find out who they're shooting at?", you asked and crossed your arms on your chest, while the two of you had taken refuge behind the kitchen counter. The shots had stopped, probably the sniper was waiting for any movement from you.  
"We have to leave."  
"No way," you growled and tapped him on the chest with your index finger. "This is my apartment! All my stuff is in here!"  
"And you were once in the Special Forces?" he replied dryly. "Not very professional to put things above your own life!"  
"I am retired!"  
"Doesn't mean I want you to kill yourself for some stupid photo albums!"  
"Are you arguing with me?!", you hissed angrily, but immediately realized what nonsense you two were up to. Yes, you were arguing about trivial things - basically like a normal couple. Dark looks were exchanged between you, but the next shot through the window tore you out of your bickering and brought you back to reality.  
"Through the stairwell. Pack up what you urgently need," he instructed you and you crawled forward on the floor.  
"A pair of pants would be a start, of course," you hissed to him while he looked out the window again and you crawled to the bedroom.  
  



	13. I see myself in you

In the stairwell, both of you listened to every sound to see if anyone was in the house.   
"Through the basement. The basement rooms are connected to the neighboring buildings," Bucky said and you nodded in agreement. The two of you had packed the essentials together, put the cat outside the actual owners' front door and set off to leave the building - as unnoticed as possible.  
"We have to go to the ON POINT," you whispered to him as you hurried through the cellar corridors. "Sorin will know what's going on."  
"Who is this Sorin, anyway," Bucky asked in a disgruntled voice and threw a gloomy look at you in the dark. You paused briefly, irritated by his serious tone of voice, and closed in on him.  
"James, are you jealous," you asked quietly, but he shook his head immediately.  
"No, I'm not jealous. I just do not trust him."  
"My God, you are jealous!" He no longer answered you, but gnashed his teeth - you took that as a silent confirmation.  
  


"Stay out," you instructed Bucky, who stared sullenly at the entrance to the ON POINT. He seemed very displeased with the enormous volume and the crowd - who could blame him. With a quick glance at him, you twisted his eyes and pulled the hood off his head. "You look like a drug dealer."  
"Hurry up," he murmured and you nodded.  
By early evening, the club was not yet too crowded and you looked around for your work colleague. The first scantily dressed women stocked up the bars and the soundchecks chased the first bass through the foundation walls. At the bar in the VIP room you finally found your work colleague.  
"Hey, pretty lady."  
"Shut up," you replied, with nerves that were on edge. He seemed to notice that, too, as his gaze became immediately serious.  
"What's up?"  
"I need a favor," you said, raising the collar of your jacket. "I need a safe hiding place for tonight. And I need a way out of the city, unnoticed, of course."  
"Technically speaking, that's two favors," said your colleague and sighed heavily. "Go on, tell me: What have you been up to?"  
"Someone has blown up my apartment. Snipers. Hard to tell if they want me or my wife, I mean Bucky.  
You almost called him your friend, and the way Sorin's eyes darkened, he noticed it too. But why did that upset him so much?  
"So you both have to move your ass westwards, of course," he grumbled and emptied his glass of Scotch. He shouldn't drink during his shift after all!  
"Actually... Only he has to get out of town. I'll wait until things calm down and then I'll go after him."  
He raised his eyebrows in silent amazement.  
"You'll pay for his ticket, huh? You really like that guy," he rumbled and poured himself another drink.  
"Sorin. Please," you said, with a strong urgency in your voice. He hesitated for a moment and let his gaze linger on you, but then nodded approvingly.  
"Okay. And don't forget to tell Alex that you need a vacation. If you just don't show up, you're out of a job."  
"You got that right. "I'm gonna bring Buck in and talk to Alex about the vacation. Why don't you make your calls and check everything out," you told him and Sorin waved him off.  
"Yeah, I'll do that."  
  


Silence prevailed between the two men, only interrupted by the trembling of the bass and an occasional clearing throat.  
The next pejorative look was too much for Sorin. He turned to Bucky and crossed his arms.  
"Do you even know them?" Sorin asked angrily. "Do you know anything about her at all? Because I've known her half her life!"  
"She has told me many things. About her last assignment in the Russian military," Bucky replied, with a little defiance in his voice. "She trusts me."  
"Mission?" the other one followed up with a derogatory "tse "You mean the village in Mongolia? What did she tell you?"  
"That the whole village was wiped out to destroy a research facility. And that she retired because of an injury."  
Sorin laughed rawly and gave Bucky a pitiful look.  
"Oh man, she told you some nice shit!"  
The dark-haired one frowned and turned away, not interested in this idiot's bullshit.  
Sorin's eyes narrowed and he took a sip from his glass.  
"It wasn't the military that destroyed the village, you damn fool," he growled. "I was there: She did it. The research facility was there to keep her underground! She single-handedly massacred the whole village and was then recruited by force as a weapon - you should know about that. She's as much a freak as you and those damn Avengers. Just do me one favor: Don't drag her into this, she has a good heart, unlike you."  
Bucky swallowed hard and looked up when you walked up to the bar.  
"So much for the vacation. Alex preferred to throw me out instead of giving me a vacation," you grumbled and looked at the two men who were giving you strange looks.  
"What's wrong?", you asked confusedly, but when you saw Sorin's look, you could feel his bad conscience. Ice went into your veins and for a moment paralyzed your mind. "You- You told him."  
Both men jumped up, but you flinched immediately. Tears rose to your eyes as you watched your lie crumble. All you longed for was oblivion and even that seemed impossible. It would haunt you forever!  
You turned on your heel and stormed outside, closely followed by the two men. At the entrance Bucky stopped and stopped Sorin by hitting him on the chest with his metal arm. Groaning, your colleague dropped to his knees and got nothing but a helpless rattle.  
"This is your fault," Bucky growled angrily at him, but then set out to chase you. Who knew what you could do in such an agitated state?  
"Get out of here! Leave me alone," you shouted over your shoulder when you saw Bucky behind you and turned off into the next side street.  
"Just wait!"  
"I told you to go away!"  
He grabbed your wrist, made you stop, and you expected a speech about lying and trusting and that he didn't want anything more to do with you - instead he pulled you close and kissed you.  
"Buck", you muttered to his lips after a few seconds. "I thought you wanted to leave me after-"  
"Bullshit," he growled and you raised your eyebrows in surprise - he seemed to have expanded his vocabulary quite a bit after all. "And as soon as we are safe, you will tell me the whole story."  
"I-I don't want to talk about it," you said, dodging his gaze. He took a deep breath and nodded, accepting that you were not able to tell him the truth. He was hardly better than you, secretive and unable to express his feelings for you.  
"We should go back," he said quietly, putting an arm around your shoulders. "I think I broke your buddy's sternum."  
"You did what?!"


	14. Show me mercy

You leaned with your back against the wall, next to you Bucky, on the small mattress in even smaller apartment. Your hiding place for the night was dark and disgusting - a dump.  
"I grew up in a small village in Mongolia," you said, avoiding Bucky at all costs. "When I was 12, it started little by little. I was able to do things that others couldn't. You understand that that made me an outsider - and like everyone else, puberty just made it worse."  
A sad smile hung on your face and with an empty look you stared into nothingness, lost in the memories of your youth.  
"The military took notice of me when I was 14. They put me underground in an old fallout shelter. It was some organization that paid for it, I can't remember their name."  
That was a lie. You just didn't want to tell him what organization was behind it - and he knew that, too.  
"And, well, they were trying to strengthen the forces. A bit like your super-serum." You took a quick look at him and saw him waiting for you to continue your story.  
"Anyway, they actually did it. I was about 17 when I finally got free. Honestly? It wasn't even hard! I knew the pattern of the guards by heart and just wanted to sneak out into the fresh air."  
You sighed heavily and nervously brushed some stray strands behind your ear. Your mouth was dry and you didn't really know how to continue.  
"You know the rest of the story in the rough version. I ended up going into the military and having a flashy career."  
You buried your face in your hands and convulsively tried to stop your fingers from shaking.  
"Why did you stay in the military in the first place," Bucky asked quietly and shook his head.  
"They had my sister and used her as leverage. But Sorin actually managed to get her to safety last year."  
"Where is she now?"  
"Canada," you replied, chuckling away. "She always wanted to see a moose. Maybe she'll send me a card one day."  
"I'm sure she will."  
  


It was early noon, and after a restless night, it was time to leave.  
Nothing could have been more punctual than dull footsteps in the hallway of the run-down apartment building you were staying in.  
"Heavy boots," muttered Bucky, with one ear against the door. "Moving clumsily and slowly, so are armed and wear protective gear."  
You hesitated, but you two knew it would be a stressful, rushed day.  
"We have to go," he called and took you by the hand.  
"To the station, our train leaves at 5:00 p.m.," you said and let yourself be dragged down the fire escape. "We can't miss the train!"  
Carefully you climbed over the crumbly ledge until your hands felt the cold metal of the fire escape. You pulled yourself over the railing and hurried down the steps, looking over your shoulder to see if Bucky was still behind you.  
In the small side street where the stairs ended, he grabbed your hand again and dragged you with him. How would the whole thing end?  
Your way led you through the winding alleys of the city center, past the busy squares and twitching at every siren that was heard. Was it an ambulance or the task force that seemed to be on your heels?  
"It's not far now," you shouted to him after half an hour of extremely exhausting sprints, convulsively trying to ignore your aching side. Your lungs burned like fire, but with great effort you could grit your teeth and keep running.  
"I wonder if they're still following us," you shouted to Bucky, but he pulled you around the next street corner and stopped briefly to catch his breath.  
"Of course they are," he growled. "Why would they stop suddenly after they almost shot us?"  
"Good point," you mumbled and supported yourself with your hands on your knees. You tried to take a deep breath with a gasp, but the air came trembling over your lips.  
"W-We just have to go down the street," you said and rubbed your sweaty neck. He seemed as exhausted as you, but you gave him an encouraging smile and stroked gently over his shoulder. "Soon we'll be done."  
He pulled you close for a moment and gave you a long kiss that sent butterflies through your stomach. If only this moment would last forever - but unfortunately that was not granted to you. Instead, he separated from you again and in his eyes you could see exactly what was going on in you: worry, fear and the tiny spark of hope that the whole thing would turn out well.  
"We have to keep going," Bucky murmured to your lips and pulled his baseball cap a little deeper into his face.  
"You close that, by the way." You closed the fastener of his backpack in front of his chest and thereupon he could no longer keep an amused grin off his face.  
"Thanks for the tip." A fleeting kiss on your forehead was the reward, and in the next moment his fingers hooked between yours again and you were dragged along.  
  


"It's almost 5 p.m.," you shouted to your companion as you two hurriedly made your way up the steps to the railroad track. A loud signal for departure made you shiver - would it end here just because you missed the train?  
"Hurry up!" The doors to the compartment were still open, you could make it!  
At least one of you.  
"Come on, get in!" you urged him. "Sorin could only get a ticket, but I'll be right behind you, I promise!"  
He stood outside the door for a moment and looked at you in astonishment.  
"No!" he replied immediately. "I'm not leaving without d-"  
"Bucky, please!", with a painful lump in your throat you leaned against his chest and tried to force him into the compartment. Not easy, considering that he had much more mass than you.  
"They will kill you," he hissed impatiently and tried to pull you along with him. "I won't let you die!"  
"Oh Bucky, please just go!" you moaned desperately. "I'll be fine! Please believe me!"  
"I'm not going to-"  
You were interrupted by the second warning whistle - the train left every second.  
"James!", you begged even more forcefully and pushed him with all your might towards the train.  
"No." His voice became cool, almost determined and for a second you felt the cold metal hand on your cheek.  
"Wa-!" He grabbed you by the waist and while the doors were still closing he threw you into the compartment of the car. Behind you the automatic doors locked and with a terrible, all-consuming panic you realized what he had just done.  
You jumped up from the floor of the train and hammered desperately with your arms against the windows.  
"Bucky!" you shouted through the closed door and tears gathered in your eyes. "You must find a safe place! I'll be all right!"  
Your hands pressed against the glass you sobbed and tears rolled down your cheeks in disgust.  
"James... Please, James...! Don't do this to me!"  
He looked sad, but he forced a smile on his face. With a jerk the train started and slowly but steadily you lost sight of him.  
You sank down at the compartment door and cried silently into the sleeve of your jacket.  
  



	15. Happy End: A new dawn

The calamity had taken its course, and thanks to the help of T'Challa, Bucky was now sitting in Wakanda, patched up and visibly taken away.  
"Steve," Bucky said softly, and the blond turned to him. "Can I ask you a favor?"  
"Sure," Steve replied and pulled his eyebrows together, asking. "What is it?"  
Bucky was silent for a moment, but took heart. He just couldn't get it out of his head.  
"Before I go back out on the ice... Can you find me somebody?"  
"Who?"  
"A friend- Well, my girlfriend."  
Steve grinned at his best friend who he'd risked so much for.  
"Your girlfriend?" he asked and Bucky nodded sheepishly.  
"She really got me out of a tight spot in Romania," he explained and looked down. "I have to be sure she's okay."  
"Of course."  
  
  


"Welcome to Wakanda," Rogers greeted you and you nodded thankfully.  
"I followed it on the news as best I could," you said and followed him into the building complex. "I couldn't find out the whole story, of course. What happened?"  
Rogers moved the corners of his mouth and hesitated for a moment.  
"Nothing good, that's for sure," he replied and gave you a sideways glance as he led you through the corridor. "Thanks for taking care of him."  
You shook your head and crossed your arms in front of your chest.  
"I could not do enough. I wish I could have helped him more," you said, but then looked up at him as he stopped in front of a large metal door and turned to you.  
"You helped him a lot," he said seriously. "I know that because he asked for you as soon as he got the chance."  
He pushed the door open and your gaze caught a kind of laboratory, equipped with a cryogenic chamber and some equipment for monitoring vital functions. Your second look was on the couch in the room where Bucky was sitting and his eyes brightened as soon as he saw you.  
You stormed past Rogers, eyes only for one man. Ignoring T'Challa, you rushed to your lover - and gave him a good slap. The loud clapping silenced everyone in the room and Bucky looked at you with big, astonished eyes.  
"You stupid asshole," you shouted angrily. "Throwing me on that goddamn train and all that shit" You gestured down at him. "To go through with it! Look at you! Your arm!"  
You had to shed some angry tears and in that moment you didn't care who was in the room.  
"I was so worried!" you brought out, your voice shaking with emotion. "I- I saw the news and I thought-"  
"I'm sorry," Bucky interrupted you and the powerlessness in his voice melted your anger like ice in the sun. "Honest."  
"I know, I know," you muttered, your anger ebbed away in the face of your battered friend. "Oh, Bucky. You fucking idiot."  
You stepped forward and put your forehead to his, with light tears in the corner of your eye. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the brief moment of tenderness until he detached himself from you and sighed heavily.  
"I'm going to freeze again," he said and looked at you with concern. "I am simply too dangerous. I cannot trust my mind."  
"Steve has already told me," you replied and lowered your eyes sadly. "For how long?"  
"Until there's a way to get it all out of my brain."  
"Hopefully not too long," you muttered and let your fingertips run gently over his cheekbone, which was covered with a laceration and bruises. Man, he really took a beating the way he looked! And then his arm...  
You took a deep breath and put on a smile.  
"Don't worry, I'll wait for you to wake up," you said, as confidently as you could. "No matter how long it takes."  
"No, don't say something like that," he started reluctantly, but you cut him off.  
"James! I love you and I will wait," you said forcefully and his eyes widened in surprise.  
"How can you love me?" he asked. "You know what I am like!"  
"Of course I know, we have lived through many things together." You shrugged your shoulders in front of his uncomprehending look. "I guess I have a pretty good idea of what you're like. I've met the Winter Soldier and also the loving, loyal Bucky. I get along with both. Even if I have to break another vase over your head."  
You leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss on the lips.  
"I will wait," you put an end to the discussion and he sighed resignedly.  
"I do not deserve you."  
"Neither do I deserve you," you murmur and reach for his hand. "Let's agree that we don't deserve each other in the least."  
You winked affectionately at him as T'Challa approached you and cleared his throat.  
"Oh, pardon Your Highness," you said embarrassingly. "We-- uh-- Had a little matter to settle."  
"I think we all noticed," was the dry reply, but you looked an amused twinkle in one eye. "And I think it's only fitting that I offer to stay here in Wakanda until the dust settles."  
A heavy stone fell from your heart and you nodded eagerly.  
"Yes, with pleasure! Thank you very much for the offer!"  
"It's about time," Bucky said softly, gently squeezing your hand. You nodded and sighed heavily. Goodbyes just weren't your thing.  
"I love you," you smacked him and for a second you felt overwhelmed by the affection you felt for him.  
"I love you more," he whispered to you and your hands slipped away from the tender touch.  
"Eggs or waffles for breakfast," you asked with a leaden, oppressive feeling in your chest. He laughed and you were surprised to hear him laugh for the first time.  
"Eggs." He leaned a little towards you. "With bacon."


	16. Sad End: Last chance to lose control

With a loud sigh you put your front door keys on the kitchen table and looked around briefly. Your apartment hadn't changed - it just seemed unusually empty. No Bucky, no cat and you were only here for a short visit. Collect some of your personal things together before you flew back to Wakanda to help your friend. It made you sad, but you had great confidence that T'Challa could help him.  
The click at the back of your head made you freeze for a moment and within a second you knew it was over. What a damn shame. Everything could have gone so well.  
"You were warned. Multiple warnings." The same cold, dark voice. Same rat-eyed killer.  
"That's correct," you replied and relaxed your shoulders. At least it would be quick. "And I have decided to act against my comrades."  
"Explain yourself."  
"I helped the soldier escape. He's in safekeeping outside the reach of the Kremlin." Your voice was neutral and cool, and yet the panic and adrenaline ran down your back cold. "You will never use it again in your warfare!"  
"Captain. You are hereby dishonorably discharged."  
You heard the metallic click of the trigger and the grinding of the bullet in the barrel. Fractions of seconds felt like hours and all you could think about was Bucky. For you there would be no bacon and eggs when he awoke from his sleep.  
You couldn't lie on the sofa with him anymore, watch breakfast TV and get angry about the damn cat. No hot baths together, no being close when one of you two had a nightmare.  
You would never marry him and you would never have children.  
'Oh, James', you thought and felt a short, white blinding pain in your head - then it was over. Your body tilted forward and you were seized by the feeling of diving into a pool of freezing cold water.  
'My poor James. He'll be devastated.'


End file.
